Éowyn Nimbeinaith
by Egleriel
Summary: Aragorn and Éowyn explore their feelings with full account of their LOTR deeds. FINISHED
1. Part One: Meduseld

Éowyn Nimbeinaith  
  
Éowyn: the Fair White Spear  
  
I don't own any of the characters or story, except for the bits I made up. Mingled with my work is [paraphrased] Tolkien, to make it seem more fic than fan-fic. I have put two parts of the story on every page, so as to keep it simple.  
  
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Prologue  
  
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Morning slid through the crevices of the White Mountains. Three horses approached the gates of Edoras. Gríma entered the royal chambers to enchant and awake the slumbering king.  
  
Éowyn stirred and awoke. She ate a silent breakfast and took her place at Théoden's side even as the four travellers argued at the doors. She caught a phrase: ". . .even were it a woodman's cot. . ." and her heart leapt. So long had she hungered for that voice! She had seen him once before, just a fleeting look that had stirred her soul and awakened her heart.  
  
And yet even that moment of joy was marred by the sly glances of Gríma Wormtongue, but for whom her brother would be avenging the death of Théodred at the Fords of Isen.  
  
The doors opened.  
  
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Part 1: A Touch  
  
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Théoden was cured! Gríma was banished! Éomer was free! And Aragorn was here, at last!  
  
Éowyn was never the jealous type - she remained quiet in defeat and rejection. Yet even her sweet soul was aching for a broadsword and a chance at that Elf-girl. The king's niece had heard Gandalf speaking to Aragorn as she brought round the food before the toasts.  
  
"Elrond is sure to be satisfied by now," said the wizard.  
  
"Nay, Gandalf - he wants the crown, sceptre and Sauron's destruction. I have none of these things." Éowyn wondered at Aragorn's words.  
  
"And yet-"  
  
"Yet nothing. Thingol wanted a Silmaril, for he set Lúthien above all jewels. If Elrond wants just those three victories, he shall be selling Arwen as cheaply as his great-great-grandsire did his own daughter."  
  
"I suppose Elf-princesses are harder to find these days." Gandalf shrugged.  
  
Éowyn was a little confused by Aragorn's last remarks. Who the hell was Thingol? One thing was clear, and that was that Aragorn had to triumph over everything to marry an Elven lord's daughter. All the same, the toasts had to be made.  
  
"Ferthu Théoden hal!" Hail lord Théoden.  
  
As she passed the goblet to Aragorn, her hand trembled. Perhaps they would touch! They did, and Éowyn neared tears of joy. She could sense his gaze on her as she turned, but knew that he had become suddenly aware of her.  
  
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Part Two: Upon the Balcony of Edoras  
  
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While Meduseld and Edoras prepared for battle, Éowyn ventured out onto a high balcony, where she was joined by Aragorn.  
  
"Please," he said softly. "Don't speak. It cannot be. My heart lies in Imladris. I have come to far to end my quest like this. . ."  
  
Éowyn stared at the city below. "Imladris is an Elven settlement, is it not? How could one of our people - Men, that is - join with an, an Elf?" Eavesdropping is not a desirable quality in any one. Knowledge of the world, on the other hand, is.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "I said to my friend, who asked of your people, that you were 'wise, but unlearned'. I was hasty, but meant no offence, my lady." Éowyn's heart fluttered. He had called her 'my lady'!  
  
"And yet, that question was also asked by the one accounted wisest on Middle-Earth, the elf's father. I must conquer to win her hand. And when the time for either triumph or defeat is so near, I cannot change my mind - not when I have come so far."  
  
"Indeed, lord," said Éowyn. "Yet, what if you fail, and fall from grace in the eyes of the Elves? Who then will you turn to, if you cannot have your princess?"  
  
"I know not." Aragorn turned and went back down the steps. Before he vanished from sight, he turned back towards Éowyn.  
  
"I know what you would say, were you so bold. You would bid me return to Rohan, and my heart too tells me to do so, saving much pain to all Elf-kin. To my body in the wars. All the same, I cannot turn back. Though I cannot deny that I-"  
  
His earnest, still-uncertain words were cut short by a call from the lower battlements. "I must go, Lady, to my doom if 'tis my fate. Farewell."  
  
"Fare thee well, my lord. 'Tis not to thy doom, not yet. Indeed I foresee that thou shall live long after this day. Farewell."  
  
And he was gone. 


	2. Part Two: Dunharrow

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Part Three: At Dunharrow  
  
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Éowyn led her people to Dunharrow as her uncle had decreed. She feared for Aragorn's life as much as Éomer's. She rued not following, though she had dressed in armour as they left. Every night she sat, waiting for news of her beloved. Five days passed before he came.  
  
He, along with many men (to appearances they were kin, but perhaps they were not), arrived with the Dwarf and Elf that had visited Edoras. Éowyn delighted in their speech of slaughter at the Hornburg, and of the valour shown by the House of Eorl.  
  
"Lords," she said, "you are weary and shall now go to your beds with such ease as can by contrived in haste. Tomorrow fairer housing shall be found for you."  
  
At dinner Aragorn announced that the company would leave after breakfast next morning, due to their urgent errand.  
  
Éowyn grinned and blushed slightly. He had come so far out of his way to see her! Perhaps they did have a chance.  
  
"Though such a journey would not have been one wasted," he said, "My road leads from Dunharrow."  
  
Éowyn's dream was squashed. "Lord, you are astray," she said coldly. "No road runs out of Dunharrow other than the one by which you came."  
  
"Nay lady, I am not astray. I am older than you guess, and had travelled these lands many years ere your birth."  
  
Éowyn was again confused. How old was he? The Lord Aragorn looked to be in his mid-30's, at oldest. Éowyn herself was only 26, so he would have to have been crawling or toddling through Rohan! (In actuality, Aragorn was 88 but that matters not.) Then he spoke again:  
  
"There is a road that leads through the Harrowdale - one I must take. Tomorrow I shall ride the Paths of the Dead."  
  
Éowyn covered her mouth with her hand and colour drained from her face. The Paths of the Dead! None from the House of Eorl grew up without hearing the tale of Baldor son of Brego Hall-builder, who should have been the third King of the Mark. He had taken the Paths of the Dead and never returned! To follow that road was certain death, for the Dead do not often wish to be disturbed.  
  
"Do you seek death, Aragorn?" she asked earnestly. "For they do not suffer the living to pass?"  
  
"They may suffer me to pass," replied the Dúnadan. "But no other road will serve. I have need of greatest haste."  
  
Éowyn was desperate. "These are great men, who would be sorely missed on the battlefield. Await my brother and the King - 'tis men like you they shall need, and our hope will be the brighter knowing that you march with them."  
  
"Lady, this was a path appointed to me, and I do not force any of these men to follow. Those who wish may ride with the Rohirrim, but I shall tread the Paths of the Dead - alone if needs be." Then the meal was silent, until it ended.  
  
"I thank you for your gracious care of us, lady," said Aragorn, "But we must now take our leave. We must rest, for we may not sleep for many days after this. Good night."  
  
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Part Four: Harrowdale at Night  
  
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Éowyn was troubled still by Aragorn's words and followed him to his lodgings for that night.  
  
"Aragorn," she said, "Why do you go on this deadly road?"  
  
"Because I must. This perilous path was chosen for me; to play a part in this war I must take this road. If I were to follow my heart I would be far to the north, in Rivendell."  
  
Éowyn was troubled, for she had heard of Rivendell - a dwelling of Elves. Perhaps it was the same as this Imladris place. Then she placed her hand on his arm. She undetectibly felt the muscles there. "You are a great lord, worthy of honour. If you must go, let me go too."  
  
"Your duty is with your people," he said kindly. "Did you not accept this responsibility in Edoras? You cannot desert your people. At least, not without the King's leave."  
  
"I am weary of duty! I am weary of finding food and beds for the warriors while I must behave like a serving woman! My duty was to my King, and now that he no longer needs my help, may I not live my life as I please?"  
  
Aragorn sighed. "Few may do that with honour. And soon there may be a time when no warriors return. Your part is just as important, for without promise food and beds the warriors would never return."  
  
"I can ride, and wield blade," Éowyn said, with desperation. "Let me ride with you tomorrow, you shall not regret it. I fear neither pain nor death."  
  
"And what do you fear, lady?"  
  
"A cage, to stay within one until it is accepted, and all chance of great deeds is gone."  
  
Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Yet you advise me not to take the Paths, because they are perilous."  
  
Éowyn gave way. "So one may counsel another, but I would not see someone so great and excellent cast their life away needlessly."  
  
"Nor would I, so I say to you: stay! You have no errand in the South."  
  
Éowyn turned. "Nor do those that follow you, but they go for they would not be parted from you, for they love you." Under her breath, she murmured, "As do I." But Aragorn caught these words and remembered it.  
  
*****  
  
Later that evening, Éowyn did a final check of the camp, to make sure all were comfortable and at ease. Finally she reached Aragorn.  
  
"Is all to your liking, Lord?" she asked graciously.  
  
"Nay, Lady," he said. "Pray, sit." And she did. "I see your discontent. I blame you not for wanting to prove yourself. Too often have you been forced to 'act womanly' and you now want to exercise other tools than the knitting needle and the spoon. I would take you along, were I more certain of the end."  
  
"Aragorn," said Éowyn, "I would follow you to the Inland Sea and back, even had I to run the whole way. As I said earlier, I fear neither pain nor death."  
  
Aragorn was silent for a moment. "I have had word from the north. My lady awaits my return. And yet . . ."  
  
"I know not who she is," ventured Éowyn, knowing fully the risk she was taking, "But I know that she could never feel for you what I do. I only wish to please you, to follow you, to love you. Aragorn, she is older than me, but Elves grow weary of the world and of those in it. Men do not. We live and love to the full, every moment of every day."  
  
Aragorn looked pensive for a moment, then his expression relaxed. A decision was made.  
  
"Éowyn," Aragorn soothed, "Come here." They embraced. The embrace became a kiss, one for which Éowyn had yearned often. The kiss grew stronger and deeper. Aragorn looked deep into Éowyn's eyes and saw a soul there, beyond his understanding, beyond words, beyond love, and his heart blazed. It was a feeling he got when he looked at Arwen, but stronger. He closed his eyes to see Éowyn, and again that warmth. He thought of Arwen. A flicker, nothing more. It had been fading for a long time, but this was the end. Aragorn opened his eyes. His lips still met Éowyn's. He began to move his hand towards her thigh, but as it touched, Éowyn placed her hand on it. They parted.  
  
"Nay," she said. "I am a maiden, and a maiden I shall remain till I marry." Éowyn softened, and they shared a final embrace. Éowyn crept noiselessly out of his quarters, to her own. The rest of the night was spent in tears of joy and grief until sleep claimed her. She loved him so, and now knew that he loved her, too. But he would leave tomorrow, and never come back. She was filled with pride at her refusal, but feared it might have been seen as a rejection.  
  
Then Éowyn came to a decision also. What if he did come through the Dwimorberg, on the other side? He would head for Minas Tirith. There also Éomer and Théoden would go, by a more direct route. They were due in a few days. Éowyn looked East. 


	3. Part Three: The Dawnless Day

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Part Five: The Paths of the Dead  
  
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Aragorn's mind was in turmoil. He had done the unspeakable - cheated on Arwen. What now was the use in continuing? He loved Éowyn, but was now so familiar with the idea of loving Arwen that he had lost interest.  
  
Halbarad, who stood near Aragorn that morning, before they set off, saw the great pain in his face as he looked on Éowyn, and caught a mutter: "Loth- arin o Undómiel?" Morning Flower or Evening Star? Halbarad was troubled.  
  
Éowyn was dressed as a rider. He pale golden hair flowed in the wind. "Good speed!" she toasted, drinking to it. She gave the cup to Aragorn, and gave him a sad but loving look. He drank also.  
  
"Farewell, Lady of Rohan. I drink to the good fortune of your land, you and your people. Tell your brother: beyond the shadows we shall meet again!" Then he passed back the cup.  
  
"Wilt thou still go?" Éowyn pleaded.  
  
"I will," he replied.  
  
"Wilt thou not take me?"  
  
"I could not grant you leave to come," said Aragorn, with anguish, "Not without the presence of your uncle and brother. They will come tomorrow, and I cannot wait that long. Farewell!"  
  
The chalice clattered on the rocky ground, for Éowyn dropped it as she fell to her knees. "Take me with you, I beg you!" she cried.  
  
"Nay, lady," was the soft answer. And with that, the horses were spurred and the Grey Company left. Tears flowed down Éowyn's face as she watched them. She stood until they were out of sight and could be seen from afar: a silver gleam on the hillside.  
  
*****  
  
But though Éowyn thought herself forsaken by her lover, he kept the Rohirric princess in his thoughts, even as he looked on the bones of Baldor son of Bregor at the Door of the Dead.  
  
And when at last he emerged in the vale of Morthond, the gleam of the sunset he likened to the gleam of her hair. He remembered her smile and sense of humour, as well as her tears. He had never joked with Arwen.  
  
At the Stone of Erech, he wondered if his ghost should be united with Éowyn's, or should he rob Arwen of her place in Valinor. . .  
  
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Part Six: The Dawnless Day  
  
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Aragorn was gone, and Éowyn kept him in her prayers. She kept also her plan in her mind, while she prepared the camp for the King's arrival. And arrive he did, at sunset on the day after Aragorn left. Éowyn had wept for much of that time and hoped that the broth did not taste of tears.  
  
Éowyn wiped her eyes when she heard the horns, and took horse to greet her lords. "Hail," she cried, "My heart is glad at your return!"  
  
"Are you well, daughter?" asked Théoden, "For so I shall call you."  
  
"All is well," replied Éowyn, realising the redness of her eyes, "Though the people are weary for the road was hard. All is prepared for you, for I had full tidings of your coming."  
  
Éomer spoke. "So Aragorn has been here - is he still?"  
  
Éowyn sighed. "Nay. He left ere dawn yesterday. He has taken the Paths of the Dead." All gasped, except for a bewildered-looking creature at the King's side. He looked to be a Man, only half the height.  
  
"You are grieved," said Théoden, concerned.  
  
"Yes, lord. He is lost." Éomer look mournful.  
  
"Then our paths are sundered," he said. "We must ride without him."  
  
Éowyn learned that the creature was called a Hobbit, and she made room for him at the King's table, for he was amused by this Master Meriadoc. He was unfamiliar with Rohirric legend, and did not know of the Paths of the Dead.  
  
"What lies beyond that door," said Éomer, "No men know."  
  
"But," Théoden continued, "Legend says that the Door under Dwimorberg leads to a secret way through the mountain to some forgotten end. None have explored it since Baldor, the son of King Brego, made a rash vow at the feast that hallowed the new-built hall of Meduseld, and never returned to claim his throne.  
  
"Yet it has been said in Harrowdale," added Éowyn, "That last night, a moonless one, a strangely-arrayed host passed into Dwimorberg, as if to keep a tryst. They have been seen here before. But also it is said that no mortal may pass their door."  
  
"Why then," began the Hobbit, "Has Aragorn gone that way?"  
  
"We know not," said Éomer.  
  
"Why I saw him in Meduseld, he seemed to me older and grimmer." Éowyn voiced her fear: "He is like one whom the Dead call."  
  
"Maybe he was called, for I predict that I shall never see him again. It is a pity, for he was a noble man of high destiny. But I see that you are most grieved, Éowyn. Take comfort! It is fact that when Brego and Baldor first found the Paths, an old man sat there and told them that the Door was shut until the time came. Baldor returned not, but perhaps the time foretold is now."  
  
Éowyn remembered Aragorn's words. "I believe you are right," she said, a great gladness dawning on her. "He said that this path was appointed to him."  
  
"Although," said Éomer, "What if this is not the time? If Aragorn is erroneous, he is lost."  
  
Then it could be heard that someone was shouting, "Théoden!" A Gondorian messenger had arrived, bearing the Red Arrow: a sign that Gondor was in gravest need and required aid from Rohan. Théoden realised that if Rohan did not ride soon, Minas Tirith could fall. He agreed to a counsel in the morning. But there was none. The Darkness had begun. 


	4. Part Four: The Ride of Dernhelm

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Part Seven: Dernhelm  
  
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The Muster of Rohan was to set off that day. Éowyn saw that the only one as grieved as her at the parting was Meriadoc, and empathised with his position.  
  
"Come," she said kindly, "And see the gear I have prepared for you. This request only did Aragorn make to me, that you should be armed for battle. I have granted this, as I could, and my heart tells me you shall need it ere the end. No mail have we to fit you, but here is a leather jerkin, a knife and a belt."  
  
Merry bowed, receiving these things, plus a helm and a shield his size. Éowyn smiled. "Take all these things and bear them to good fortune. Farewell, Master Meriadoc! We shall meet again, you and I."  
  
Two hours later, Théoden and Éomer bid Éowyn a fond farewell. No sooner had they left than Éowyn dressed in the gear of a Rider and mounted her horse. She did not want to miss her only chance of an honourable death! She looked at the Hobbit, and thought of how she had escaped his plight. She looked away as he noticed, in case Merry recognised her.  
  
At Edoras, Merry made a final plea to Théoden, but it was kindly refused. "Denethor calls for Riders. You will be of no use."  
  
"Where will wants not, a way opens, so we say," she said, "And so I have found myself. You wish to go whither the Lord of the Mark goes - you shall go with me. I shall bear you before me, under my cloak until we are far afield, and this darkness is yet thicker. Such good will should not be denied. Say no more to any man, but come!"  
  
"Thank you indeed!" exclaimed the Halfling. "Thank you, sir - though I do not know your name." Éowyn smiled. Her disguise was cunning. He who had seen her well the night before knew her not.  
  
"Do you not? Then call me Dernhelm."  
  
Later, they got word of a host of Orcs invading over the Wold, leagues to the North. But Théoden dismissed it. "We have no time; Gondor's need is greater."  
  
They came to the Drúadan Forest, and were aided by the Wild Men in finding a safe road to Gondor. The horns of Rohan blared at sunrise. The fields of the Pelennor were overrun by Orcs and evil Men. And Éowyn smiled. The battlefield beckoned.  
  
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Part Eight: The Pelennor  
  
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Théoden led the charge, straight into the midst of the Haradrim and slew their king. Éowyn followed him ever. Then the Witch-king appeared on his fell steed. All other Riders had either been slain or bourn away on terrified horses. But Éowyn stood over her king. His horse, Snowmane had lain down in terror with the king underneath. He was crushed as the Witch- king bore down upon him.  
  
"Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!" Her very cry displayed the courage of the House of Eorl. Then the Witch-king answered:  
  
"Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye." [Graphic. Sorry -EB]  
  
Éowyn drew her sword. "Do what you will; but I will hinder it if I may."  
  
"Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!" The foul being laughed. Éowyn's courage and love for her uncle kept her steady on her feet. Her burning desire to see Aragorn again maintained her will to live. Éowyn laughed also.  
  
"But no living man am I! You look upon a woman! Éowyn I am, Éomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."  
  
The Witch-king's uncertainty was plain to see. He had not counted on this. As proof, Éowyn tore off the bonds that held her hair in her helm. A river of gold cascaded over her shoulders. Éowyn stood as the Nazgûl and his steed came upon her. She beheaded the beast in a single, swift, skilful stroke. The Witch-king was even more threatening on foot, if he had any.  
  
Éowyn gave a shout of pain as he smashed her shield-arm with his mace. As she regained her balance, he prepared to finish her. Éowyn thought only of Théoden, Éomer and Aragorn as she raised her sword again. 'My death is near,' she thought.  
  
But the stroke pummelled the ground, not Éowyn's fair head. Looking up, teeth clenched through the pain, she saw Merry plunging his Barrow-knife into the Witch-king's leg from behind. The Nazgûl stooped in shock and Éowyn drove her sword between its shoulders.  
  
Suddenly the Nazgûl evaporated and an eerie, piercing scream went up with him. Éowyn's last thought was that she would never again see Aragorn, then the Darkness took her.  
  
There she lay, until the forces of Rohan found her and the King a few minutes later. It was even as she passed through the gates of Minas Tirith, and Prince Imrahil pronounced her living, as the armies cried, "The Corsairs, the Corsairs!"  
  
They were, of course, the reason for Aragorn's taking the Paths of the Dead. He had summoned the Dead and with their help captured the fleet of Umbar, which was attacking the Falases of Gondor. He took the ships up the river Anduin, along with seven thousand men who had been defending the coastal regions. The tokens of the House of Elendil flew from the ships.  
  
Aragorn fought his way to the hillock that Éomer held strong. Together they won through to Minas Tirith. There, Aragorn came at last to the Houses of Healing, for it is said in Gondor that 'the hands of a king are the hands of a healer, and thus the true king could ever be known'. 


	5. Part Five: Minas Tirith

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Chapter Nine: The Corsairs  
  
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Aragorn was worried, and wondered if he worried too much, or too little. He was riding through Tarlang's Neck: a pass between a nameless cluster of hills and the White Mountains, through which ran the road from Erech and Calembel on the River Ciril. The host of the Dead rode at their heels.  
  
He thought of Éowyn's desperate face the morning before, and hoped against hope that she would do nothing rash. She wanted to show that the House of Eorl is valiant, and not just the men of that house. She would do anything.  
  
The road brought them too far south for Aragorn's liking. He would have preferred to leave to road at the borders of Dor-en-Ernil, cross the Gilrain and the Serni where they were large and slow. From there it was a direct route to Pelargir, where lay Umbar's armada.  
  
It was the reason why Aragorn had split away from Rohan's main force. He understood the need of Gondor and had seen the flotilla in the Palantír of Orthanc. It drew nigh on seven thousand men away from Minas Tirith - seven thousand who would be sorely missed. They wanted to defend their homes before the city.  
  
But the Dead had taken care of the fleet. Most were sent mad by fear and many jumped overboard and drowned. More waded ashore and fled south. The slaves, who (being chained up) had been unable to escape, were freed. Aragorn then took command of the ships and rushed to the aid of Minas Tirith.  
  
Sailing up the Anduin left one with time for thought. He thought of Arwen and their history together, and of his natural compatibility with Éowyn.  
  
"You've come too far to leave Arwen now," said one part of his brain.  
  
"But love does not require half a century, as you have wasted on plans with Arwen," said another. "Love may take a second. Éowyn is young, but Arwen has been around for almost three millennia."  
  
"Think of Arwen's lineage," protested the first. "Your children will be of pure blood, for Elros was her uncle. Is Éowyn of such noble ancestry?"  
  
"Yes!" exclaimed the second part. "She is the granddaughter of Morwen of Lossarnach, who was of close kin to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth - therefore of high Númenórean blood."  
  
"But that blood has been diluted by the lords of the Rohirrim. She will not live as long as you, Aragorn. She is but 26, and will see 75. You will be 137 when you are widowered. Your death will come not for seventy more years, at worst."  
  
Then Halbarad spoke. He, of course, knew nothing of this inner argument. "What troubles you, old friend?" he asked. But Aragorn only sighed.  
  
He was afraid to voice his dilemma, for the sons of Elrond stood by; Elladan and Elrohir were Arwen's older twin brothers. The ship swung round a meander in the river, entering the view of Minas Tirith's watchers.  
  
As has been told, Aragorn met Éomer and together they reached Minas Tirith.  
  
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Chapter Ten: The Houses of Healing  
  
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Aragorn healed first Faramir, who had lain longest with wound and was near death. He then sadly entered Éowyn's chamber. He had feared that she would try to come to war, and yet was a hint proud of her, but it seemed to him that Arwen frowned at his pride.  
  
"Here there is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow. The arm that was broken has been tended with due skill, and it will mend in time, if she has the strength to live. The shield-arm is maimed, but the chief evil comes from the sword-arm. It is not broken, but it is lifeless. She was pitted against a foe beyond her strength, and who will take a weapon to such an enemy much be sterner than steel, if the very shock of it does not destroy them."  
  
Éomer, who was present, had a sudden, unbidden remembrance. It was of his childhood, when Théoden had told them of their grandparents. "My mother was Morwen, from Lossarnach - a part of Gondor that is near Mundburg. She was tall and slender, not to mention very beautiful. they called her Steel- sheen."  
  
"It was an evil doom that set her in his path, for she is the fairest maiden of a house of queens. I know not how I should speak of her. When I first saw her at Edoras, I perceived her unhappiness. She appeared as a fair, bittersweet flower that is frozen by frost. Éomer, am I right in thinking this malady goes back before this day?"  
  
"I hold you blameless lord," answered Éomer earnestly, "But I was unaware that Éowyn was touched by any frost until she first looked on you. Her fear and mine grew as Wormtongue's hold on the King strengthened, but that did not bring this to pass!"  
  
Gandalf then spoke to Éomer, and his tone was soft: "My friend, you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him fall into dotage, and her part seemed to her ignoble. For Wormtongue poisoned her mind, also, calling her away from her nobility. You heard the words of Saruman, the teacher of Wormtongue on the house of Eorl. It seemed to her that the walls closed in about her like a hutch."  
  
And Éomer thought about it. Gandalf's words struck a chord with him, for he now saw his sister's life clearly, as she did. Then he glanced at Aragorn.  
  
"I saw it also," said Aragorn. "Few griefs in the world match the bitterness in a man's heart on beholding the love of a woman, which he is not allowed to return. Sorrow and pity followed me from Dunharrow and my greatest fear was of what might befall her. Éomer, I love her, but I fear that she loves you more truly, for she knows you. I am but a passing shadow of glory and great deeds, far from the fields that she knows. If I can heal her of the malady you behold, but she awakens to despair then she will die. If she is hopeful, she will live. It is a matter of mind, not of body. The will to live will sustain her; it is her only chance of recovery. She has already won herself renown."  
  
Aragorn bent down and looked into her face. Verily 'twas like a frosty lily, but he kissed her brow. "Éowyn Éomund's daughter, awake! Your enemy is gone." Though she stirred not, her breath now came deeply. Aragorn crushed a pair of athelas leaves, and the air tingled with purity. Aragorn looked contemplative for a moment, then a sort of painful resolve passed over his face. He took her hand and relaxed as warmth began to return to it.  
  
"Awake, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan! Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean! Éomer, call her." Éomer stepped forwards, taking her hand, and Aragorn left the room.  
  
"Éowyn, Éowyn!" he cried. She opened her eyes slowly.  
  
"Éomer, what joy is this? Nay, 'twas a dream - I dreamt you were slain. How long have I been dreaming?" asked Éowyn.  
  
"Not long," replied Éomer. "Lord Aragorn has healed you."  
  
"I am very weary," she said. "But what of the Lord of the Mark? I dreamt also that he had fallen."  
  
"He is dead and lies in great honour," sighed Éomer, "But bade me say farewell to Éowyn, dearer than daughter."  
  
Éowyn also sighed. "That is grievous, for he was dearer than father to me. Yet it is good beyond my hope in the dark days, when it seemed that the house of Eorl was bereft of all honour. But what of the Halfling - the King's esquire? Éomer, you must make him a Knight, for he is valiant!"  
  
"He lies nearby in sickness and I must go to him," said Gandalf. "I am greatly gladdened to see you well again, but speak not of war and woe! Not until you are truly well." For Gandalf remembered the final words of Aragorn, and saw the wisdom in them.  
  
"To health?" said Éowyn. "Possibly, as long as I can fill a fallen Rider's saddle. But to hope: I know not."  
  
As Aragorn joked with the new-healed Hobbit, Éowyn enquired of him. Éomer did not know how to respond to that question. Her tone was anxious, as though she anticipated some long-awaited answer. "He is well," replied Éomer at last. He forgot not Aragorn's words: 'I love her', but also 'love, which is not allowed be returned'. And he pondered these words. 


	6. Part Six: For Love of Éowyn

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Chapter Eleven: A Choice  
  
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Aragorn had not changed his mind. As he looked on Éowyn, lying motionless and near death, he saw that her hope lay in him as much as in Éomer. It was true clear sight, not ego. Guilt lay heavy upon him. He knew Éowyn well from sight, and heard and saw more on his visits to Edoras than he pretended.  
  
When he saw Éowyn, he saw not the cold maiden that others saw, but an earnest young woman with dreams of glory, which she could not have in Rohan. She dreamt of a wider world than the fields, of nobler deeds than embroidery. Though Éowyn found these things pleasant, they did not cool the fire of adventure in her heart. She called herself a shield-maiden, who feared all bars except those of the helm. All she wanted was a more promising future, for her own seemed grim.  
  
It had stirred his heart to pity; to see something so fair and admirable lose hope in life, simply because of the limitations that restrained her. He was moved, for he understood. It had almost been his destiny: indeed it would have, if not for Arwen. Fate would have seen him grow old, had he not fallen for Arwen. But what was it that made him love her? Was it the twinkle in her eye? The tenderness of her voice? Or was it the idea of marrying an Elf? The prestige, the novelty, the honour of reuniting the Children of Ilúvatar? The realisation smote him like an Entish fist.  
  
He didn't love Arwen - it was pure physical attraction. Arwen was willing to give up her life for him, and he only wanted her to inflate his reputation. Dying for something is a noble thing, if your sacrifice will save someone or something. But dying for love . . . that was going a bit far. Aragorn did treasure their time together, for he recognized in hindsight that it had been love in the beginning, but a first-crush type of love. He was 20. 68 years on, things were different. His loving Arwen seemed routine - just something you did because you had to, like getting dressed or eating. Not because he really wanted to. For Arwen, seven decades was a drop in the hat. It was still fresh.  
  
She was beautiful - the most beautiful creature Aragorn had ever seen. Yet he saw the difference between being a beautiful maiden and being a fair one. There was an innocence, a memory of happiness that lived yet in Éowyn but had died in Arwen before the Kingdom of Arnor. It was a solemn type of joy that Arwen displayed, as she knew that as her love for Aragorn grew, her lifespan diminished.  
  
Thus, Aragorn was come to a decision. That night he would ask Éomer for Éowyn's hand. He knew not how Arwen would take the news, but believed that his place remained on the battlefield until the Ring was destroyed or captured. With Éowyn.  
  
----------------  
  
Faramir  
  
-----------------  
  
Aragorn visited Éomer in his tent that night. "Hail, Aragorn, healer of my sister," said the King of the Mark. The merriness of wine in moderation rang in his voice.  
  
"Hail, Éomer, King of the Mark!" smiled Aragorn. "I come to you on an errand of utmost sincerity. It concerns your sister."  
  
Éomer's grin faded. "I know what you will say, and I do not wish to hear it. I am in mourning for my uncle, for my comrades and kin who are fallen, but also in celebration for victory and the health and safety of my sibling. I need no words of solemnity now." Aragorn bowed his head.  
  
"I come to ask for her hand in marriage," he said, raising his head slowly. Éomer started.  
  
"What? I thought you were here to tell me to - I mean to say to - to reject her!"  
  
"Indeed," admitted Aragorn, "That was my plan when first I met her in Meduseld one week ago. But a change has come in me. I love her, and it is my belief that that love is returned."  
  
Éomer looked uneasy. "I wish that I could accept that this has been ongoing," he said hesitantly, "But mere hours ago you said that you were disallowed from returning her love. Have you begun to care for her since then? If so I cannot grant you leave to marry her, if you desire to do so on a whim."  
  
"Nay, lord. My devotion goes back to the first time I saw her, when Wormtongue's hold on Théoden was but growing. I could not return her love as I was betrothed to another: an Elf, as it were. The sister of Elrond's sons, who have accompanied me hither from the plains of Rohan: they rode with the Grey Company. Today I have made a difficult choice," said Aragorn. His figure was framed by the light of sunset that entered through the tent's threshold. Éomer noted the change in his voice. It became softer and yet nobler. "Today I was forced to choose between the one I thought I knew and loved for the better part of a century, and one I have known truly for barely half a decade. And I chose the latter, for reasons I can barely put into words. I care ABOUT Arwen, but I care FOR Éowyn. It sounds trivial, but it is the best way I can put it. It is not easy to put into words."  
  
"Love scarcely is," soothed Éomer. "I can see that you are in honesty, and I know enough of you to assure me of your loyalty and good character. Therefore I grant you what you ask of me, if my sister also consents to your marriage of course! Though I daresay she will. But you must agree to this: you will ask her not until this war ends. I do not want her to be betrothed, then have her man march into danger."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Of course, Éomer. That would be for the best." ***** The next day, the lords debated the next course of action. At last they agreed to offer themselves as bait for Mordor. Two days later, they marched with two thousand men towards the Morannon of Mordor.  
  
*****  
  
Éowyn watched them leave from her window in the Houses of Healing. The warden had taken Aragorn's parting advice and agreed to keep Éowyn in his care for at least another week. But Éowyn had grown bored of her room.  
  
"Sir," said she, "I can no longer lie in sloth."  
  
"Lady," said the Warden of the Houses, "You are not yet healed; I was commanded to tend you with especial care. You should not have left your bed for another seven days, or so I was bidden."  
  
"Are there no tidings of the war? The women can tell me nothing."  
  
"There are no tidings, lady."  
  
"But it has been two days since they set off," she said. "Is there nothing I can do?"  
  
"My hands are tied, lady," sighed the Warden. "But the Steward of the City may be able to help you."  
  
So the Warden led Éowyn to the Lord Faramir, son of the now-deceased Denethor. He was walking in the gardens. Éowyn told him of her boredom.  
  
"I have not yet taken up my authority in the City," said Faramir, "But even if I had, I would not grant you leave to depart the Houses. I am myself in the keeping of the Warden. In any case, it is too late to follow the Lords."  
  
A rebellious tear slipped down Éowyn's face. "Then what would you say to me, Lord?"  
  
"I would say to you that you are beautiful, Lady Éowyn. In the South we have many fair and beautiful flowers, and maidens fairer still, but I have seen neither flower nor maiden to match your beauty. Nay, stay we must in the Houses until we are fully healed."  
  
"But I am healed in body," cried Éowyn, "Excepting my arm. I shall take sick again if I must lie in sloth! I wished to ride in battle like my brother, or better like Théoden the King, who has died in honour in battle. But died I have not, and the battle continues and I may not take part."  
  
"Then we must patiently await our freedom," said Faramir with grave tenderness. "Come see me again, if you will. Speak with me."  
  
"I shall do so," said Éowyn. A faint smile threatened to crack her face. "But my window looks not east."  
  
"Then that shall be remedied immediately."  
  
*****  
  
Éowyn was unsure. She saw the look in Faramir's eyes. Yet she could not deny her feelings for Aragorn. She knew nothing of his conversation with Éomer, and he had visited her only in slumber. Éowyn had not seen Aragorn since that morning in Dunharrow, over a week ago.  
  
Faramir had feelings for Éowyn, that much was clear. Éowyn began to greatly doubt her future with Aragorn, for he had not (to her knowledge) visited her. Even that night in Dunharrow seemed nothing but a dream. Had it been her imagination?  
  
Éowyn fulfilled Faramir's wish of company. Faramir taught her about Gondorian culture, of poetry, and of things she had considered too feminine for herself, before meeting Faramir. He made them more masculine - more honourable somehow. Éowyn also told Faramir about life in Rohan, of the war there and of the ride of Dernhelm. They also spoke of war and battle, though Faramir did not delight in it as Éowyn did.  
  
They spoke long each day and Faramir's feelings grew. Éowyn saw him as a dear friend, nothing more. Her heart was lighter to know that a kindred spirit like Faramir dwelt near at hand.  
  
*****  
  
A week after the ride of the Captains of the West, Éowyn stood upon the wall of the Houses of Healing, from which she could see far. She gazed eastward. There were still no tidings, but even as she stood, the Ringbearer and his companion were about to enter the Cracks of Doom.  
  
"What do you look for, Éowyn?" asked Faramir.  
  
"Does not the Black Gate lie yonder? He must have arrived there by now - it is seven days since he rode away."  
  
"Seven days . . ." said Faramir. "Think no ill of me, if I say to you: they have brought me both joy and pain. Joy, to have seen you, but pain for the fear and doubt of this evil time. I would not have the world end now, and make me lose what I have found!"  
  
"Lose what you have found, lord?" answered Éowyn. Her eyes were kind, but she dreaded the answer. She now understood the plight of Aragorn in Dunharrow: seeing the love of a worthy and noble person, but unable to return it. She dared not, in case Aragorn did indeed love her. But if he did not . . . "Come, my friend, let us not speak of it! I stand upon some dreadful brink, and there is an abyss at my feet, but I know not if there is light behind. I cannot turn yet. I wait yet for some stroke of doom."  
  
[Some people might need a bit of clarification here: it took me a while to decipher Tolkien as well. She is deciding where to place her heart. The abyss ahead of her is Faramir, for she knows not what lies at the bottom. The place behind is Aragorn, and the light symbolises love for her.]  
  
"We all wait for the stroke of doom," said Faramir softly. And suddenly all was silent. Time halted. As they looked east it seemed that a mountain beyond the fences of Mordor towered up like a wave that would engulf the world. Lightings shimmered around it; a tremor ran through the earth and the walls of the City quivered. A sound like a sigh went up from the lands. And time began again. The Ring was destroyed.  
  
"It reminds me of Númenor," said Faramir at last, "Númenor in my dream."  
  
"Of Númenor?" said Éowyn. Over the previous days he had told her about the doomed isle of Men, far out to sea, where the far-sighted could see the tower at Avallonë, on Tol Eressëa in the Undying Lands.  
  
"Yes," said Faramir, "in my dream of how it foundered, of the great dark wave climbing over the green lands and above the hills - even of the usurped Queen clinging to the summit of the Meneltarma, praying to Ilúvatar for forgiveness for the folly of her people, and of Elendil and his folk taking ship, fleeing the island, under the Darkness Unescapable. I dream of it often."  
  
"Darkness Unescapable?" said Éowyn. "Do you think that is what is coming?"  
  
"It is what reason tells me," he replied, "but my heart tells me nay, for my limbs are suddenly light, and a joy is come over me that I have not felt since the appearance of the Shadow. Éowyn, Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan - I do not feel that any Darkness can endure!" And Faramir stooped, kissing her brow. Éowyn closed her eyes, for it did not feel wrong. But he stooped again to kiss her lips, and Éowyn placed her finger on his lips.  
  
"Nay, lord," she said quietly. "For my heart belongs to another."  
  
Faramir stood straight again. He spoke again, though to himself, and Éowyn could barely hear him: "Then it is as I thought."  
  
They stood for many minutes more in silence, looking out towards the Black Gate. Gandalf, Gwaihir, Landroval and Meneldor were speeding to Mount Doom, to rescue Frodo and Sam from the lava. Aragorn led the assault on the final battle between good and evil, against those who had not fled or surrendered. Gimli had just caught sight of a Hobbit-foot under a troll- carcass and was dragging Pippin out, muttering, "His kill nearly killed him!" And the Darkness broke; the Anduin shone like silver and all Men burst into song for joy. Soon an eagle came, crying of the defeat of the Shadow.  
  
*****  
  
In the following days, the tidings began to pour into the City: orders for various goods, news to loved-ones, and summonses to the Field of Cormallen. Faramir refused his invitations, for being nearly healed he had taken up his Stewardship and could not desert his people. Éomer sent for his sister, but she gave no reply. He sent riders again, but again no reply. Faramir was curious, remembering her eagerness to follow the Captains. It had been two days since the Downfall of Sauron.  
  
"Two reasons I see," he said. "But which it is, I do not know."  
  
"Lord?" asked Éowyn.  
  
"One: that only your brother called for you, and not the Lord Aragorn and your refusal is in your wish for his wanting you there also. And the second: that you desire to be near me."  
  
He hit the mark with the first reason. "I wished to be loved by another," she said. "But -"  
  
"My lady!" called the Warden. "There is another message for you." Éowyn took it and a sweet smile spread across her face. "You are at liberty, lady. You may go, as I said before." It was another summons, and it was signed by the Lord Aragorn. Éowyn's heart leaped. She turned back to Faramir.  
  
"And it seems my wish has come true. He has called me to Ithilien. I must go." Perhaps it may seem cruel to just leave Faramir hanging like that, and Éowyn regretted it in hindsight, but her heart was too full to care at the time. She had her things packed, with pretty dresses and some jewellery as well as the essentials.  
  
She bade Faramir a fond farewell and took horse. Two Riders from Edoras were her escort, and they were jolly fellows who preferred horses to hoes and had joined the Riders. They joked about how they would be gardening right now if they had known what was in store. They decided to pick up the pace a bit and arrived at the Field of Cormallen on the fourth of April. 


	7. Part Seven: Cormallen

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Chapter Thirteen: The Field of Cormallen  
  
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Éomer was delighted to see Éowyn's arrival. "Why did you not respond?" he asked.  
  
"I wanted to surprise you!" she said. Éomer smiled. The frost had melted from his sister. She was the happy young woman he remembered, not the cold maiden everyone else saw. He knew quite well that Aragorn's message had been the deciding factor, but was aware she had wanted to see him, too.  
  
"Where, pray tell, is the Lord Aragorn?" she asked, after much talk on other matters.  
  
"He is still with the Hobbits," said Éomer. "They needed much care."  
  
"Indeed he is putting forth all of his power to save them," added Gandalf, "for they are near to death."  
  
And Éowyn was worried, but it was at that moment that she saw him emerging wearily from the beech-grove where Frodo and Sam lay. He beckoned to Gandalf.  
  
"They were near death," he said, "But they will make it. I marvel still at their strength."  
  
"As do I," smiled Gandalf, "for without them, the Quest would have failed: indeed the war would have been lost, if not for the Halflings. Pippin saved Faramir and slew a grown troll; Merry helped slay the Witch-King; Frodo and Sam - they threw down Sauron!"  
  
"I begrudge not the Dúnedain's watch over their land, though they be unaware of it," said Aragorn, smiling also. "Now I must rest, for I shall sleep standing up if I must!"  
  
*****  
  
Four blissful days later, on the eighth of April in the reckoning of the Shire, Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins awoke. That afternoon there was a ceremony held in their honour. "Long live the Halflings!" sang the people.  
  
Éomer requested a seat of honour for his sister. Seven seats were set behind the High Table. Three were under the flag of Elendil, for Aragorn, Frodo and Sam. At his right hand sat Éomer and Éowyn under the banner of Rohan, and on the left were Prince Imrahil and Gandalf under the Swan of Dol Amroth. A great feast took place in the evening. Aragorn was shown in his full majesty, as was Éomer, but even the great son of Éomund looked like a schoolboy in Aragorn's shadow.  
  
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Chapter Fourteen: Tents on Cormallen  
  
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That evening Aragorn visited Éowyn in her tent. "Good evening, King Aragorn," she said with a gracious smile.  
  
"Good evening, Lady Éowyn," he replied. "You know, I summoned you here for a reason."  
  
"A reason, majesty?" she asked. Her voice trembled.  
  
"Yes, Lady. I have come to ask you for your hand in marriage."  
  
If Éowyn had been happy before, just to sit in converse with him in the company of others, her heart was ready to burst now. A broad and beautiful smile spread across her face. She was barely able to answer.  
  
"Lady?" he asked, for it had been some time before she answered.  
  
"Yes, I shall marry you!" she said, in a whisper of pleasure. With a tender kiss, he took her hand and they strode outside. He walked straight into a party of Captains, being entertained by Pippin with a tale from the Shire.  
  
"Gentlemen," he said happily, "The Lady Éowyn has agreed to marry me!" Éowyn blushed deeply, but two of the Elves looked as if they liked not what was said.  
  
*****  
  
LATER, IN ARAGORN'S TENT  
  
The sons of Elrond were shocked. Aragorn had spurned their sister, and was to marry a Rohirric woman, of no noble blood that they knew of.  
  
"Aragorn," said Elladan, "we wish to speak with you in private."  
  
Aragorn frowned, but sent his esquire out. "Of what?"  
  
"Of Arwen," replied Elrohir.  
  
"But she must understand I must follow my heart!" cried Aragorn. "Though I had not thought of how to tell her."  
  
"We shall send no messages," declared Elrohir. "This is your choice, but we shall not attend the wedding."  
  
"Arwen shall be heartbroken indeed," added Elladan. "She it was that made the banner under which you march."  
  
"But remember the words of Galadriel," pointed out Aragorn. "I'Elfstone, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone, in the south under snow a green stone thou shalt see. Look well, Elfstone! In the shadow of the dark throne, then the hour is at hand that long hath awaited thee.'I Éowyn stood in the shadow of Théoden's throne; he bore a green stone upon his brow. Éowyn is my destiny."  
  
"But Aragorn-"  
  
"But nothing," Aragorn interrupted. "Leave me!" 


	8. Part Eight: Ceremonies

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Chapter Fifteen: Coronation  
  
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The Captains of the West led their men back to Minas Tirith, where the women and children were waiting. Tidings had gone out to all parts of Gondor, summoning them to the coronation of King Elessar.  
  
Before the barrier that replaced the broken Gate stood Faramir, and Lord Húrin the Warden of the Keys, and Elfhelm the Marshal of the Mark and many knights of Rohan and Gondor.  
  
Then a single trumpet blew, and Faramir stepped forward with Húrin; behind them four men carried a wooden casket bound with silver. Faramir knelt before Aragorn.  
  
"The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office," said Faramir as he held out a white rod.  
  
"That office is not ended," said Aragorn, retuning the rod, "and it shall be thine and thy heirs' as long as my line shall last. Do now thy office!" Faramir stood up.  
  
"Men of Gondor," he said, "Hear now the Steward of the Realm! Behold! One has come to claim the kingship at last. Here is Aragorn, son of Arathorn; Chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor; Captain of the Host of the West; bearer of the Star of the North; wielder of the Sword Reforged; victorious in battle; whose hands bring healing; the Elfstone; Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son, Amandil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?" [Whew!]  
  
The people cried 'Yea!' with one voice. Faramir opened the casket.  
  
"I have brought hither from Rath Dínen the crown of Eärnur the last king, whose days passed into the time of our longfathers of old." Faramir then held up an ancient crown.  
  
It was shaped like the helms of the Guards of the Citadel, but it was nobler and all white. The wings at the side were wrought of pearl and silver, in the shape of a sea bird's wings, which were the emblems of the kings that came over the sea from Númenor. Seven diamonds were set in the circlet and upon its summit was set a single jewel, the light of which went up like a flame.  
  
Aragorn held up the crown and said:  
  
IEt Eärello Endorenna etúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar- metta!"I  
  
Those were the Elvish words Elendil spoke on arriving in Middle-Earth. It means: "Out of the Great Sea to Middle-Earth I am come. IN this place I will abide, and my heirs, until the end of the world."  
  
Then Aragorn requested that Frodo bring the crown to him, and that Gandalf set it upon his head in token of the labours of many by which he had come into his inheritance. Aragorn knelt, and so it was done. Gandalf said: "Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"  
  
Aragorn arose, with the crown upon his head. Tall as the sea-kings he was; ancient of days he seemed, yet in the flower of manhood. Wisdom was on his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light shone about him.  
  
Faramir broke the awed silence. "Behold the King!" All the trumpets were blown, and Aragorn passed through the barrier into the City, and he came to the Citadel and entered the tower, and Arwen's flag unfurled atop it. So began the reign of King Elessar.  
  
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Chapter Eighteen: Funeral  
  
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Éowyn was living in bliss: she was with friends, promised to the man she loved, who was now the most powerful Man on Middle-Earth. Yet she was intensely grieved. Théoden was being buried next day. Éowyn walked tearfully beside her brother, for Aragorn could no longer comfort her. The funeral procession had walked from Minas Tirith over the course of the past week. Faramir allowed Aragorn leave to attend the funeral. Camp was made in west Anórien.  
  
The next day, what seemed to be the entire populace of Rohan arrived to pay their last respects. The eighth mound on the right-hand side of the road was made. Simblemynë ever grew thickest on his grave, and to the imaginative eye it grew in the shape of the white horse on green: the flag of Rohan.  
  
The grief of the house of Eorl was great. Éowyn's arm was not yet healed, and Éomer's title was not yet known to all the people. Éowyn returned to Minas Tirith with her betrothed, three days after the rest of the Captains of Gondor; a week after the funeral. 


	9. Part Nine: Ere the Wedding Day

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Chapter Seventeen: Preparation  
  
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The wedding of Éowyn and Aragorn was scheduled for Midsummer's Day. Aragorn had been reluctant, for it should have been the date of his marriage to Arwen. But Éowyn insisted, for Midsummer was "the peak of all Nature's labours".  
  
Aragorn had been busy as king, removing the pockets of evil that remained in the East, especially in Ithilien. But Éowyn too had been busy, with wedding arrangements. Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil was to be the bridesmaid. Aragorn chose Halbarad as his Best Man, for Halbarad had recovered from his Orc-wound. Éomer was to give Éowyn away.  
  
The Elves of Mirkwood made Éowyn's dress, for those in Lórien and Imladris were not well disposed to the match! It was a long, flowing gown of white silk, with traceries of Mithril in a Rohirric design. The dress trailed out four feet behind. A bouquet of lilies she bore, and a lily was set in her hair with a silver circlet.  
  
Lothíriel's dress was of pale blue silk and studded with white diamonds. She too had a lily in her hair and a (smaller) bouquet.  
  
Aragorn was to wear silver mail, with diamonds and Mithril making an image of the White Tree on his breast. He would be bareheaded, for the Crown of Gondor was considered too imposing for a wedding. Halbarad's attire was similar, save the mail was not so elaborate.  
  
Dwarves were called to build a suitable feasting hall, while Legolas' people made a grove of lilies and pools for a wedding site. Elves also carved benches of rare Lebrethon wood, for the guests.  
  
----------------  
  
Chapter Eighteen: The Rejection of Arwen  
  
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___________________ IN IMLADRIS_______  
  
"He has found another," sighed Arwen.  
  
"How know you this?" demanded Elrond. He was stern, for his foresight had failed him on the love life of his daughter. He foresaw joy and many children for his foster-son, but Arwen's was blank to him. He could see nothing.  
  
"My grandmother," she replied sadly. Of course: Galadriel's mirror.  
  
"Meltha Arwen, beiniell," he soothed, "Estel nostasadron!" (Beloved Arwen, fair daughters, Aragorn has faith." And the twins entered the room.  
  
"Until now," said Elladan. "He is betrothed to a princess of the South."  
  
"Éowyn . . ." whispered Arwen, "is her name."  
  
"Yes," nodded Elrohir.  
  
"Hair like gold, eyes like sapphires, rosy lips, skin like ice," cried Arwen suddenly, "with a will like adamant and a gift for fighting! She is so different!" Arwen's gentle spirit snapped, replaced by an inferno of the heart. "And he has not the spine to tell me for himself! Saddle my horse!"  
  
"Arwen," began Elrond, with reasoning in his voice.  
  
"Nay, Father! If he does not end this personally then I shall assume it will go according to our original plan! My escort should have left tomorrow, and leave it shall. No Rohirric maid will claim him!"  
  
Arwen's speech touched the hearts of all those around her. She was fierce and desperate, and would leave alone if she had to. The escort left, due for arrival on Midsummer's Eve: the night before the wedding.  
  
___________________ IN MINAS TIRITH___  
  
Arwen arrived in splendour, surrounded by Elvish Lords and Ladies. She was still angered, for she was bereft of her grandmother: "'Tis a cruel farce," she had said, "and unfair to both of them. She was foretold for him, meltha, not you. Why guilt him for his destiny?"  
  
Aragorn was utterly shocked. He knew that he had not broken up with Arwen, but neither had he sent for her. They had not spoken in over six months; since the departure of the Fellowship.  
  
Elrond relinquished to Aragorn the Sceptre of the North: the symbol of royalty in Arnor, the other realm under Aragorn's rule. Elrond then took Arwen's hand, and she beamed when he grasped Aragorn's hand also. Aragorn was on the spot, under the eye of every Elf in Minas Tirith. In slow motion, it seemed, Elrond raised his daughter's hand and lowered it into his. Before they met, Aragorn withdrew from Elrond's grip and said, "Nay!"  
  
A silent disbelief arose from the Elves present. This mortal had the audacity to refuse their beloved princess! Arwen's head dropped into her hands in sincere tears.  
  
"I refused to believe it," she whimpered, "but now I see! I must go!" She fled.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir scowled, and ran off after their sister.  
  
__________________________ ARAGORN'S CHAMBER____  
  
"Aragorn?" called Elrond, knocking gently.  
  
"Yes - I had not the chance to speak with you ere today," he began.  
  
"Oh, Estel - there's no need for apologies!" he cried, to prevent an apology. "You cannot help your feelings! But nor can Arwen. A love grew between you two that none can deny - a beautiful love; you plighted your troth many years ago-"  
  
"I was but a child!" he protested.  
  
"- and you have deceived her so near its culmination. What do you want her to do? Cry, and take ship?"  
  
"No," admitted Aragorn. "I would still befriend her, for she is a worthy companion. I strayed from the path of her love long ago, and though it is still in sight, I want only to see it, not join it."  
  
"I understand," nodded Elrond. "You love her still, but your love has changed. Camaraderie, and good times you desire - but you do not want to wed with her."  
  
"My only problem," he clarified, "is that Elven love endures the ages. She would still look on me with tenderness, and it would destroy me from within!"  
  
Elrond looked like he understood perfectly. "Indeed that was her intent today; to shame you before her people, and to give you shame yourself. I allowed it. I am sorry." He sighed. "I am proud, however, that you kept my rule: that you should not bind yourself to any ere you held the kingship of both Arnor and Gondor. I shall attend your wedding, for you have no other close relations, and I see you as a son almost."  
  
Elrond left and Aragorn prepared himself for bed. He slept fitfully, dreaming of Éowyn cradling his Heir, then Arwen poisoning the baby's milk. But he awoke, and it was still but day, for he had lain down at noon.  
  
___________________ IN THE CITADEL___  
  
Aragorn began gently. "I know you hoped for this for a long time," he paused, and she trembled, "but it cannot be. There is another. There has always been another."  
  
She wept. "I knew it. The moment I saw her with you, I knew."  
  
"Arwen, we must part. You know that also."  
  
"I know," she said softly. "I want you to be happy."  
  
"I want the same for you, Arwen!"  
  
"No. My happiness lies with you."  
  
"But mine does not. You must find happiness elsewhere. I do not mean to sound cruel, Arwen," for she started to weep, "but it is true. Surely you have other interests than me!"  
  
"Nay," said Arwen. "I was willing to give up my life for you."  
  
"And that's not healthy. It's called obsession in the mortal tongues."  
  
"I care not," she said, shaking that fair head.  
  
"I do. Go back to Imladris, be with your kin."  
  
"It seems that is my only option. Farewell."  
  
Arwen arose, and left Aragorn's sight. He was grieved, for he knew that he would never see her again.  
  
That evening, Éowyn came in. "Aragorn," she said, "We are to wed tomorrow!" Her groom-to-be smiled.  
  
"I know," he quipped. "Why do you say this?"  
  
"It's just . . . we know so little about each other."  
  
"I know enough," he said, taking Éowyn in his arms, "to realise that we will live long, and prosper. And if we do not, as I dare not think, then you will remain to me Éowyn Nimbeinaith, my fair white spear, fairest of all the ladies of Middle-earth."  
  
Éowyn smiled also, looking up into his face. "And you shall be to me Freafreond - my lover-lord." That exchange of pet names was not forgotten by either of them to the end of their days. 


	10. Appendix: Thanks and Plea

-----------------------------------------  
  
END OF PART ONE  
  
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Here ends the story of Éowyn Nimbeinaith. If the response is good, I'll write the second part. Aw, heck. I'll probably write a sequel anyway whether you like it or not.  
  
Anyway, I hope I haven't offended any Tolkien purists. Firstly, the Elvish is real. Meltha means "a female loved one". "Nimbeinaith" means "White fair spear".  
  
The Rohirric is also real - it's the same as Old English. Freafreond (pronounced "Free-ah-free-and) means lord-lover. Yep.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
So, thanks for reading and bye. Look out for "Éowyn Bordfeamne - Shieldmaiden" if you want.  
  
It contains the wedding, cos I don't like how most A/É get them married, which is all you wanna see, then do a little post-wedding temptation as the sequel. *Gets ideas* Kidding.  
  
Bye! 


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